


Shh I'm Hiding

by embro



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [6]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, First Meeting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3930658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embro/pseuds/embro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: I'm in art class and I just opened a cupboard to find a tiny person (you) squished inside and you just looked and said, "Shh I'm hiding"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shh I'm Hiding

**Author's Note:**

> I remade on [Tumblr ](http://harryventura.tumblr.com)

Harry tilted his head this way and that, trying to work out what it was about his painting that looked oh so wrong. The colours were all similar to that of Starry Night, he’d painted with small dash-like brush strokes, but the picture before him didn’t look like anything Van Gogh would ever have created. He was going to fail the assignment for sure if he couldn’t get the style even slightly similar to the famous artist’s.

Harry sighed and climbed off his stool, making his way to the back of the room where the books were kept. There was a Van Gogh biography he figured might be of some use, and he had every intention of getting it when he opened the cupboard door, but instead he shrieked and slammed it shut again. 

There’d been a boy in there. 

Well, a man, but he was all huddled up and small like a boy, chin resting on his knees and hands wrapped around his ankles. 

Harry opened the cupboard door open a sliver, all thoughts of his art project abandoned, to see if the man was actually in there or if he’d just made the damn guy up. 

But there he still was, folded up on the bottom shelf. 

“What are you doing in here?” Harry asked, and the guy went pink with rage.

“Shh! I’m hiding!”

“From what?” 

“Godzilla.” He snorted, rolling his eyes. “Not what,  _who._ I’m playing hide and seek with my mates, so if you’d kindly piss off that’d be great.”

“You’re playing in school? In school time?”

“Christ, if you’re gonna keep talking to me then get in here. Can’t have you giving my spot away.” 

“But I’m -”

“Shh!” he spat again, so Harry climbed on in to the cupboard without hesitation. This guy was small, but he was also somewhat terrifying, even scrunched up into a little ball. 

Harry’s back was bent funny and his neck was cramping up, but it was the most excitement he’d had in a long time. He closed the door behind him, pulling his fingers in quick so they wouldn’t get trapped, and then it was pitch black. His legs were pressed against the guy’s, all he could hear was the guy’s breathing, and for a moment he wished he thought this through properly.

“So you wanted to know why I’m in here yeah?” he whispered.

“’cause you’re hiding.” 

“Shh! Whisper! You’re the fuckin’ worst I swear to God. Bet you were that kid that always hid behind curtains and got found first.”

“Wasn’t!” Harry said, this time in a whisper.

He snorted. “Right. Well anyway, me and me mates are having a big game of hide and seek today. Winner gets ten quid from each of the others. I’m determined to win, I want a new pair of trainers.”

“Why?”

“Because I just do? They’re sick.”

“No, I mean why are you playing hide and seek for money? And whose doing the seeking?” 

“The teachers are, you knob. Whoever gets caught last wins.”

“Oh. That’s - cool.” Harry said, despite thinking that it very much wasn’t. It was ridiculous, is what it was. “I should probably get out of your hair now.”

“Nah, you can stay. Been in here since 9am, I’m bored shitless.”

“Oh.” was all Harry could say, not even trying to hide his disappointment. He’d rather not be crammed into the art cupboard with a possible hoodlum, but he felt a bit too sympathetic to just leave. It was almost lunch time, meaning the guy had been in there for over three hours. “Well, I’m Harry.”

“Louis.” he nodded. “What year are you in?”

“Eleventh. You?”

“Thirteenth.”

“Right.” Harry nodded.

“I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere. You got a job?”

“Nah, Mum won’t let me ‘til next year. Maybe you’ve just seen me around.” Harry shrugged, and pushed his fringe from his eyes. It was already beginning to get hot, the air thick and hard to breathe. “I really should get going now, I’ve got a project to work on.” 

“All right, all right, I won’t keep you.” Louis said, and reached out to rest his hand on Harry’s knee. “Nice chat. I’ll see you around Harry.” 

Harry could only grin in reply, feeling butterflies in his stomach just because the older boy said his name. Louis just seemed cool, was all. Fun and rebellious, everything he himself wasn’t. “Good luck.” he muttered, giving Louis a thumbs up because he was just that lame before pushing the cupboard door open. He climbed out, tripping over his limbs as he did, crashing onto the ground. 

“Styles, what are you doing?” his teacher groaned, and Harry was quick to push himself up. 

“Nothing Miss, just - nothing.” he muttered as he went back to his easel. Where his stupid painting awaited him, looking nothing like how it was meant to. When his teacher was facing the front again, he looked longingly back at the cupboard door. 

Which was now slightly ajar, Louis’ head peeking out of the crack. He grinned wide and curled a finger, beckoning Harry back to him. 

So Harry hurried back and stood in front of the crack to shield Louis from his teacher’s view.

“Psst! Harry! I’m down here!”

“I know.” Harry laughed. “Just trying not to make it obvious.”

“Right. I just forgot to give you something.” and at that Louis reached his hand up, opening his fist to reveal a little bit of paper on his palm.

Harry took it, opening it up and blushing pink when he realised what it was. 

“Its my number!” Louis explained. “Wanna take you out after I win the money.” 

“You - me?” 

“Yeah, now piss off or you’ll get me caught and we won’t be able to do something nice.” 

And Harry was quick to close the cupboard door, skipping back to his stool with a grin on his face and Louis’ number scrunched up in his fist. He pocketed the paper then picked up his paintbrush, everything suddenly seeming so much brighter before him, his mistakes that much more obvious. He’d been right in thinking the answers could be found in that cupboard; all he needed was to take a little risk. 


End file.
